


The Latter Days

by nyahchatnoir



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gay Gayness, Humor, M/M, Multi, Open to suggestions, Possible Happy Endings, Post-Canon, Romance, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 19:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyahchatnoir/pseuds/nyahchatnoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UP FOR ADOPTION IF ANYONE WANTS IT!!! The Mormons have just been kicked from the Church, and Elder Price has had enough of it. Can he still do something incredible? How will the Mormons lead the Ugandans to salvation? Well that's easy enough: through lots of crushed boxes, friendship, and fighting. My friends, this is the tale of how the Book of Arnold came to be. Heavy Arnolungi and slowish McPricely. Canon Universe. Some mature themes. The Book of Mormon does not belong to me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Latter Days

Elder Price could not believe what he was hearing.

"From here on out," spoke the tallest of the Uganda division's Mission Review members, "each and every one of you are extradited from the church."

Price could feel his fists clenching in anger. Oh, he did NOT just sit through weeks of wanting to do something incredible and one spooky Mormon Hell dream for this. From both his left and right, there came a collective gasp of dusty air from the Mormons surrounding him. One of them even managed a small cough.

"Oh no," one of them squeaked.

"Ugh, my dad is gonna beat me. Again," another one groaned.

In the same fashion as a false king, the Review member stuck up his chin and finalized his decision with a curt nod to the Elders. He fixed both his cuffs and reached to pat at his severely greased hair, before finally sharpening his gaze and addressing them all with direct look in the eye. On his face of an immense scowl.

"Your mission is over, Elders. Just pack up your bags and go home. Then, after the plane ride, you can inform your parents about how you failed both them, the Church, and your God."

A second intake of air was elicited from the Mormons around him.

That's it! Elder Price could not take it anymore.

Staring after the mission leaders who left in their small huddle of self-induced graces, the nineteen year old could not believe what had just happened. He had NOT been called a dick by God, only to have his beliefs thrown right back into his face. Feeling a wave of hate flood through him at the sight of their backs, he could have almost let out a curse, which was odd for him, because he was not the kind of Mormon who was so easily angered. Still, he steamed silently for a moment, as everyone in his vicinity watched on, their expressions ones of dejected trepidation and remorse.

Through his fury, Elder Price winced. Crap, he thought to himself, even he could nearly hear the hearts of his fellow Mormons' breaking. They had gone through three months of Mormon training, plus all of those years of constant devotion, emotional box crushing, and prayer, just to end up failing their life's mission, the one thing that they had been born to do on this earth. All of it; simply wasted in a single moment.

As he watched them go, Elder Price could not help but think the snotty thoughts that came to his mind in retaliation for their words. Ya know what? Fudge them.

Suddenly, the young brunette felt a muster of courage spring forward, and he took a large step into everyone's view.

"You know what? Screw the rules."

A third gasp emerged from the group. Even though Price could feel the eyes of his fellow Mormons as they widened further to the size of plates, he did not care. Screw the rules, Kevin's mind chanted. Instead, his eyes focused on the sight of the few Ugandan people before him who were huddled together with a newfound light in their eyes. Just from their faces, he could tell that a lot of work had been put into performing their short play, and damn the leaders for shutting it down. Sure, the ideas behind it were almost irrevocably incorrect – I mean, it was obvious that Arnold had taken some creative liberties while trying to convert them - but the core values of the Mormon religion was still there. So screw the board leaders for attempting to bring them down, all of them. The hope that he now saw in the people's eyes was undeniable, far different from the 'Hasa Diga Ebowai' perspective that had been in them before, and the hope was what made his back straighten. This is what made him turn from them to stare defiantly at his Mormon brothers.

"We are still Latter Day Saints, all of us," he began, quickly forgetting their shocked expressions, "Even if we change some things, or break the rules, or even if have complete doubt that God even exists-"

At this, Elder Price paused, pursing in lips. He then firmly shook his head at himself. No, he knew that his God was real.

With an earnest voice, he continued, "Still, I believe that we can all band together and make this our paradise planet. So who's with me?"

Behind him, there came a small prattling of feet. Elder Price smiled as Elder Cunningham came to a stop by his side, right where the shorter man belonged, with a copy of their religion held tightly in his hands. The pudgier man's eyes shone in wonder.

"Y-You… You want to stay here with me?"

Ah, there it was, the tone that was usually used whenever his Mormon brothers spoke to him. On any other day the tinniest bit of admiration would have made the moderately self-absorbed man grin, but now it seemed to only touch his heart, and the sound of it made him gaze softly down at the black-haired man-child in front of him.

"I'd do anything for you," Price admitted.

For a moment, he even felt the odd sensation of wanting to place a hand over Cunningham's head and ruffle his hair, like as if he were an actual brother, but he held himself back. True enough, their friendship had been fixed somewhat, but their relationship was far from being as it had once been, at least from Price's perspective; although he desperately wished for a reconciliation between them. The Elder's only hope was that his face was appearing as sincere as the ever-softening feeling that was growing inside his chest.

Slowly, he took in a deep breath, reeling in his emotions. His light brown eyes met dark chocolate ones, and Price whispered, "To be honest Arnold… you're my best friend."

A small 'oof' escaped him when Arnold gave him a bone crushing hug.

"D-Don't worry little buddy," he winced with a slight tune, "K-Know this much is true-"

As Arnold let go of him, they harmonized, "Tomorrow is a latter day, and I am here for you."

"Oh, you remembered!" his short friend giggled joyously.

"Well, of course I did... I only realized it earlier, but I guess it seemed to really strike a chord with me."

Kevin's bashful words had been in reference to a song that Cunningham had sung to him all those weeks ago, confiding in him that his mother had used to sing it to him every night. Even though Kevin was clearly the most confident and vainest of the American Mormons, he hoped that singing it would help to show off the sincerity that was in his heart. He had never felt such vulnerability as he did in that moment.

"D'aww", Arnold crooned.

The younger man could only grin. Just the thought of it, that the Elder before him had remembered his tale and decided to sing it in order to make amends had made Arnold smile wide, and all of the problems that had been between them were quickly forgiven on his end. Elder Price was the one who needed to come to terms with his actions; the one who needed to learn how to forgive himself for his sins.

Kevin felt his face screw up into a tiny smirk.

Just as he went to open his mouth to make a sassy but joking remark to Arnold, the sound of someone clearing their throat made him pause. A forced cough followed. Curiously, Elder Price turned to regard the Elders as to who it was. It was Elder McKinley, who was standing there with a pair of pointy shoulders and a hard stance. The fury that he was feeling was radiating off of him in waves. It made Elder Price's eyes widen. Frankly, the man was pissed.

Lowering the hand McKinley had used to help annunciate his cough, the taller blond sent Arnold a narrowed gaze. He allowed his face become taut, and his hands balled up into a pair of strong fists. His words came out short and perturbed; a cold aura sweeping over the vicinity.

"Not to be rude Elder Cunningham, but what do we do now?"

The way he spat out Arnold's name made Kevin take a tad step in front of him. Suddenly, the brunette felt very protective of his short friend's security. It was not Arnold's fault that he had a few… problems, like his friend's compulsive lying and his insistent need to fit in.

When it became apparent that his friend was too scared to say anything, Kevin finally replied, "Well, Elder McKinley, we will do the obvious thing. We are going to teach the ones who are willing to learn."

From the sidelines, Nabulungi moved to stand by them, but her father firmly held her back. He shook his caked up face at her. Still dressed in their costumes, the woman quickly felt like an idiot, realizing that she was continuing to wear an outfit that was suddenly seeming to herself as ridiculous as her ever-growing feelings for Arnold, the man who had baptized her. Her eyes dropped in a self-induced shame. She supposed that her father was right; this was not a battle for her to interfere with.

"Granted," Kevin airily continued, "although, I am not quite sure which version will be used for such teachings…"

With that said, he looked over his shoulder and gave Arnold a disbelieving stare.

"What were you even thinking Elder?"

"I'm sorryyy," his friend wailed in response.

One could tell that Arnold was far more comfortable with speaking to the mildly annoyed Kevin than the ever-burning glare that was Elder Connor McKinley.

The thought of that made Kevin let out a tired sigh.

"Whatever."

He turned to stare directly into the eyes of their ex-district leader. The emotion that he saw in them made his face freeze into an expression of immovable defiance. His eyes narrowed accusingly.

In response, the blue-eyed man screwed up his face and let out a small curse, feeling his face becoming red out of anger. The two of them stayed like that for a long moment, continuing to stare hotly into the other's orbs, feeling like the other was at fault. It furthered their annoyance. An intense sense of injustice filled both men, and both elders could only assume that it was hatred that was making their skins crawl. That was the explanation. It definitely was not attraction… Right? Finally, McKinley was the first one to crack, and he moved his head to the side. A light blush covered his cheeks, as he puffed out an annoyed breath of air.

"Whatever," McKinley parroted Kevin, thoroughly flushed and annoyed. The older man silently vowed to make every day a living Hell for his ex-recruit.

With one last look into Kevin's eyes – with Conner swearing that it was not 'to go'- he sent him a dark face. The brunette gave him a similar look of distaste.

"Well then. Since we are not with the Church anymore, and we are not bound to upheaving the religious contract of being as upbeat and nice as our God expects us to be… I sincerely hope that you get eaten by a pack of wild, disease-ridden lions today, Elder Price."

The Mormons grouped around Elder McKinley all gasped again. Damn, they did a lot of gasping for a group of full-grown men. Standing unhelpfully, they each offered a wide-eyed stare that moved between the two Elders, going back and forth sporadically to gauge the other's reaction. One of the Mormons watched on in caution, while the others were mentally cheering out of excitement. The two standing in the far back were beginning to take up bets.

For as hectic as everyday life in Africa seemed to be to the outside world, for the people of Uganda, it was honestly pretty fucking boring, and for the innocent Mormons, this fighting shit was kind of getting interesting. Not gonna lie.

Hearing McKinley's words, Kevin's mouth dropped into a thin 'o', and his face speedily turned incredulous. "What?"

"You heard me twinkletoes."

"Yeah, I did, but I am truthfully confused, is all."

McKinley scoffed in Kevin's direction.

"As you should be," he spat in return.

Tossing a girly hand motion behind him, the blond turned to storm off, taking long strides with the assistance of his tall height and drawn out legs. Standing in the middle of the town, he left an awkward silence in his wake.

"Aren't you a just a big ball of freaking sunshine," Kevin whispered under his breath.

As he went to close his eyes, the silent air was broken by the sound of slapping skin and a loud cry of pain.

"Ow!" Cunningham cried.

Elder Price jumped and saw Nabulungi, who had moved and was now standing behind him, holding tightly onto Arnold's wrist, as her brows furrowed down in anger. "Arnold, what was that!"

"How should I know?" he asked in pain.

She spoken in a thick African accent. "Well obviously you must have some idea-"

"I d-don't Nababambi, honest!"

"It's Nabulungi," she idly reminded him.

"More like Nabugorgeous," he replied offhandedly.

The 18 year old stopped cold. For a second, she could feel the light sway of her costume in the breeze. Blushing a bit, the stare that she was giving him said that she knew he was lying, but that the small compliment had managed to work its magic just as his hands had when he baptized her those few weeks ago. It was his magic, the same magic that had changed her, which made her fall for him. Gradually, she sighed and decided that it was not worth the trouble. She eventually let go of his appendage.

Looking away from them, Kevin glanced in the direction of Conner's retreating form without really thinking. All that he could concentrate on was the small, leftover flush that could be found in the pit of his stomach, before his face squeezed into a short-lived expression of dislike. What a dick, he thought in passing.

Then, Kevin turned his back to McKinley and looked down at the shorter man and woman with a large, whitish grin playing across his features. Maybe now the man could poke a little fun at them since he and Arnold seemed to be friends again.

Placing his hands on his hips, Elder Price jokingly mused, "Ya know, the two of you are seeming pretty comfy as of late. I wonder what that could mean, eh Mafala?"

He lent forward, raising a carefully kept brow.

From the sidelines, Nabulungi's father gave Elder Price a confused expression, before his gaze became thoughtful. Sensing the discovery that her father was soon to make, Nabulungi quickly came to her own rescue, and took a quick step away from Arnold.

"Oh father, that is right! Were you not planning on praying after we finished the play? You know, for us eating that small hog yesterday?"

Glancing over her shoulder, she sent Kevin a dirty look. The latter only grinned.

When his face softened with a sudden thought, she let out a silent cheer, as he smiled, "Ah yes I was. Thank you for remembering for me, daughter. Well, as you Americans say. 'Duty calls', white people."

With that said, he left the clearing and the rest of the Mormons decided to go off in their various little groups, leaving only Arnold, Price, and Nabulungi standing amongst a few Ugandan passersby's. After Kevin's jib, he shortest of the three was still steaming, while her potential bo was none the wiser. He merely grinned at their newly reconciled friendship.

"I'm so glad that you're back, Elder," Cunningham smiled up at him.

Forgoing Arnold's soon-to-be-girlfriend's annoyance, Kevin Price smiled down at him in return.

"It's good to be back, Elder," he fondly told him.

Nabulungi swiftly spoke up. "Um, not to sound rude, but I agree with Elder McKinley."

The way her accent over pronounced the Elder's name made Price smirk. Yeah, that would show him.

Nabulungi threw up her palms. She continued helplessly, "What is it that we do now? Did the hoity-toity Mormons in their suits not like our production?"

"No, they loved it," Kevin easily lied.

Blinking, Elder Cunningham was taken aback.

Sensing his confusion, Kevin immediately sent him a placating smile in order to ease him. From his height, the slightly older Mormon could tell that Arnold still felt guilty about his botched up job with falsely preaching the Book of Mormon, as his teachings had been all wrong; like completely and utterly wrong. Like, so bad it looked like the Mormon Review members were about to shoot themselves in the face while watching the play, awful.

Still, Kevin could sympathize with him. Even though it was certainly easy to say that the brunette was undoubtedly confused as to why Arnold would create such a… outlandish version of their religion, the man shunned the thought of ever intentionally injuring the Ugandan people's spirits. For all he knew, Arnold was actually a prophet of God, although that was very unlikely considering he was apparently preaching the gospel of Star Wars, but it was definitely a possibility that Kevin would consider. Just because he was a Mormon did not mean that he was not open minded. He thought that, as devout a Mormon as he truly was, even he had doubts sometimes when it came to the credibility of his own religion. Seeing the sparkle within the eyes of each and every newly introduced member of the Church had given him a new perspective, and it was apparent that Arnold's disciples felt as if he was some kind of prophet…

Also, God, it must have taken Arnold hours upon hours of speaking, including a lot of creative persuasion just to get that small portion of the Ugandan people to finally believe in him. They were such a stubborn community, and he was not the kind of Mormon to be the one to purposefully taint the potential of their faith. He was not Elder McKinley or the Mormon Review members, and to ruin their hope, well that was not the incredible thing that he was put on this earth to do.

So, honestly, to Hell with the scriptures.

Within his heart, Elder Price knew that this was the best thing for him to do; the best thing in order for him to maintain the people's faith in God's almighty power. His only hope was that, in the end, God would forgive him at Heaven's planetary gates if what he was doing was wrong. But if this was not what God wanted, then why would he have had that spooky Mormon Hell dream? Why would this have been the lesson that he had learned from it: to just go with the flow and to believe in his own/God's power? To believe that, no matter what, tomorrow is a latter day?

"And actually," Price continued, "I would… kind of like to learn a little from our own town prophet over here. Looks like you've started something big, Arnold."

Elder Cunningham beamed. Leaning up on his toes excitedly, he ordered, "Call me sensei first!"

It made him happy to be able to share his achievements and stories with his friend.

Elder Price let out a short laugh. "Alright, sensei. Whatever you say."

From beside them, Nabulungi clapped jubilantly. "Ooh, I am coming too, just give me a moment. I will go grab my phone! We must keep record of the sacred texts."

As she bolted off down the road in order to grab the type-writer from her room, they watched the dust that was being picked up by her heels. Elder Cunningham smiled fondly behind her.

Laughing, Kevin coughed at the dusty air. He threw up a hand to wave away at the particles of dirt.

"Should we tell her that her 'texts' aren't texts? She doesn't even have a phone, to be honest."

"Nah," Cunningham replied, somehow sounding insightful, "They make her happy, so let's just let her have her fun. Okay?"

Although his voice had lifted along with his question in its usual happy tilt, a small hint of authority was hidden behind it. The sound of it made Kevin pause, but he did not feel offended by it; the sound actually made him pleased. It was evident to him that Arnold cared deeply for the darker skinned girl.

"Ah, well then. If you say so," Kevin's mouth lifted further at the wistful expression that was on his friend's face, as he stared off into the distance.

Suddenly, Cunningham cheered, "There she is!"

Elder Price stared off into the distance and watched as her form appeared from out of the brown mist, running like a cheetah toward them with the heavy type-writer held effortlessly against her chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He guffawed at the sight. "She's really something, isn't sh-"

"Nabolunga!"

Kevin blinked, watching Elder Cunningham start to run toward her in an attempt to meet her half way. He stopped only a quarter of the way there, having to lean over himself and bend down in an attempt to regain his breath with his hands moving to support him on his knees. Speeding herself up with a grin, Nabulungi frowned when she saw him stop and she came to halt beside him, nervously hovering over him.

"Well I'll be," Kevin grinned, "Love-struck fools, honestly."

"A-Are you okay Arnold?" came her worried accent.

"L-Let me," he stuttered breathlessly, "C-Carry."

"What?" she curiously asked.

He heaved in a deep breath, glancing up at her through a small sheen of sweat and a head full of dark curls.

Allowing his heart to gradually steady, he slowly clarified his words. "P-Phone... T-Text," he let in another tired gasp, "You. C-Carry."

Nabulungi blinked. After a moment, Arnold's words clicked. "Oh. You mean this thing, Arnold?"

She held up the type-writer in confusion. Wheezing slightly, Arnold nodded, still bent down toward the ground. Maybe he should not have run towards her. She seemed to be fairing perfectly well with holding the small machine anyway.

Nabulungi screwed up her face, letting out a small giggle. "Oh-ho, it is no problem Arnold. Really, it is so light. You should feel how heavy it is picking up a lion once one has been killed. They are so-"

Her voice trailed off once she noticed the dejected way that he was staring down at the ground. He had already stopped wheezing, his shoulders having stopped moving with his chest, and now they were leaning downward in defeat, as the aftereffects of his adrenaline were suddenly draining him. He let out a deep sigh. The sound of it made her frown delicately.

"Arnold?"

He looked up at his name and jumped at the sudden weight in his hands. Struggling to keep a good hold on the type-writer, he took a step back to brace himself, and his shoulders shot up as he gazed over at her in shock.

"Nabolango?"

"Ah, you know what? This phone is actually quite heavy. My arms are hurting from carrying it for so long… Ow."

The sound of pain that she made was totally unconvincing, but it made Arnold smile in appreciation.

"Would you mind carrying it for me? Uganda's big strong, prophet boy," she sweetly crooned.

At her voice, Elder Cunningham felt his heart swell with warmth, and a small hop entered his step. Queerly enough, he could also feel an odd tightening in the front of his Mormon underpants, but that was for a latter day. A lightheaded feeling entered his consciousness.

"O-Of course," he blushed at her smile, struggling to grasp onto the type-writer within his hands, "It would be my absolute pleasure, mam."

She was so beautiful, he thought to himself.

Nabulungi smiled kindly at him, slowing her pace to walk alongside him in the direction Elder Price. Once the couple neared him, the woman lifted up a friendly hand and waved at Kevin, earning a small wave in return and a smile from the fellow Mormon. She could never stay mad at these two stupid Americans for long. They were her… what would Arnold say? Crypt tonight? Kryptonite?

Anyways, she threw her arms behind her and giggled like a fool once they came to a stop in front of Elder Price.

"Do you like my new butler, Elder?" she jokingly asked him.

Kevin smirked, "Why, he's the best butler of all the Latter Day Saints."

"A little round to be a butler, though, yes?"

Immediately, Kevin laughed aloud at his best friend's expense.

"Might want to lay off of the Twinkies for a bit, eh little buddy?"

"Hey, I made a personal promise to myself. After the Twinkie factory first closed, I sworeto myself that if they were to ever open again, Twinkies would be the only thing that I would eat. I said, and I quote, 'I will be all up on that Twinkie like Luke on Leia'."

Elder Price's face instantly scrunched up. "Um… you do know… that they were related, right? Like… canonically related?"

Arnold's face took on a solemn appearance.

"I hadn't finished the movie yet at the time," he lamented.

"Ah," Elder Price did not know what to say to that. Instead he began walking in the direction of the Mormon headquarters and muttered, "Bummer."

"Yeah," Arnold quickly agreed, walking alongside him and sighing to himself in defeat, "Freaking bummer."

Though he would always secretly ship LukeLeia. They were his forever OTP.

"Oh, lighten up Arnold."

The tone of Nabulungi's voice showed that she was practically on cloud nine at the moment because of Arnold's sweet generosity. Her heart swelled with warmth for the bumbling man. "Be happy, friend. Our Mormon play was a success, and we are gradually bringing in more members for the Church. Besides, the tale of the long lost love between Luke and Leia is just a Mormon tale. You said so yourself!"

Kevin could feel his brows reaching up to his hairline, as his swung his head to stare patronizingly down at Arnold. With a distrustful eye, his own head shook, when he witnessed the pudgier man visibly shrink into himself in shame. Oh, yeah. They would definitely be talking about this later in their room tonight.

"Oh? Then I just can't wait to hear of your many stories, Prophet Arnold."

The man in question weakly nodded.

Nabulungi skipped ahead of them, "Ooh, and I will be there to write all of them down! I am the sacred text keeper after all, right Arnold?"

The trust in her voice combined with the fluttering of her eyelashes was almost too much for him to handle, and his grip around the machine unconsciously slacked.

"Ah!"

Accidently dropping the type-writer to the ground, the short man felt his heart stop at the effect of his idiotic clumsiness. A thin mumbling left him, as he hurriedly went to pick it up.

"R-Right," he muttered, struggling to stay upright under the weight of his own lies.

Absently, he apologized for dropping the machine, "I'm sorry."

But that was not the only thing that he was sorry for. He was sorry for all of the various tales that he had told her; the grand stories about the mighty Death Star and the holy essence that was 'the force'. The voyages of the Star Trek Enterprise, and the mighty Doctor with his time-traveling blue box. Because of his lies, it was inevitable that there would come a time where he would have to come clean about his indiscretions. This was the only universally fair scenario. Even the greatest compulsive liars would always feel the need to tell the truth in the end… But out of fear, Arnold would simply save it for a latter day, because tomorrow is a latter day… And every day after that is also a latter day.

Besides, he had people who believed in him. This was all that he could do in his situation.

Out of spite, Kevin laughed tightly, feeling the faintest amount of universal gratification at the floundering way that his friend was acting around Nabulungi. In his eyes, Arnold deserved to feel his guilt... Feeling a bit uncomfortable was the least that he could feel after botching up the entire Mormon religion. Still, out of the kindness of his heart, Kevin reached forward, past his annoyances, and gently took the heavy type-writer from his friend.

Bringing it effortlessly up to his chest, he gave the two of them his ever-charming, prince-like smile; a full mouth of well-kept, clean pearly whites.

"Here, let me hold onto that," he offered, giving Arnold an honest glance.

After hearing Kevin's indignant snort, Arnold knew that he deserved it, but when the taller man took the type-writer from him with a suddenly comforting smile, the shorter man could not help but give him a small lipped grin in return.

"Okay then," he conceded.

As he made his way down the long dirt road towards their camp, Elder McKinley grumbled hatefully to himself. He just had to get away from those two idiots, Elder Cunningham and Elder Price. He could not stand the thought of even being in the vicinity of such an idiotic jester and his finely dressed prince any longer. It did not help that the man was feeling a tad guilty for his outburst.

Truthfully, the Elder's feelings had nothing to do with the boys in particular, but more so the feelings that were being repressed within himself. It was infuriating; a small tap dance here, a short jazz hand there. The feelings within him were at war, and he felt unable to come to terms with his own sense of freedom. He felt trapped. The Mormon felt cheated and extremely tired because he had literally just spent all of his high school years trying to hide his own… basic urges, only to have all of his effort and left-over emotional pain thrown back in his face. Completely wasted. He had been extradited from the Church, and now… well, all of the little boxes in his head were becoming far too hard to crush as of late. They were seeming to only grow stronger and brighter, and more alluring with time; more than any of the other boxes that he had had in his life, even more so than the box he had in the fifth grade back when he was having strange thoughts about Steve. During what he considered to be his gay phase...

But his parents had helped him with that, thank you correctional therapy.

Still, he was terribly confused. Conner had thought that his heterosexual side was winning, but now… now he was not sure. Now all of his little boxes were becoming filled with images of men, but more specifically, just one man; a fellow Mormon. He was beautiful, strong, and charismatic… but having a man in your box is a sin. Sinning leads to a fiery pit, and God hates those sinful little boxes.

Feeling a burst of rage, he let out a groan of frustration, "Augh!"

Elder McKinley raised his hands to his hair as he walked, restlessly shaking it out with his fingers. He could NOT believe this.

Just what had those Elders done to him? No.

What had Elder Price done to him?

Feeling a new wave of shame wash over him, the man sniffled at his predicament, and a few exhausted tears began to enter his blue eyes.

"Damn it all," the young man cursed.

The skinny man, both lanky and coordinated, could feel his inner melodramatic flair running up his spine as he walked. Further straightening his back, the Mormon thought back to all of the princess movies that he had seen as a child; how every one of them had stood tall and proud even when they faced adversity.

He suddenly thought back to the one that he had managed to see a few years ago and maybe a couple of times after that… To say that the film had not struck a chord with him would have been a total lie.

Some movie about a snow queen. What was her name… oh, that's right. Queen Elsa. Just as she had once let her frustrations out with her snow powers, with every step, the Elder could feel the need to let out his frustrations by dancing. A tiny skip here, a little twirl there. Inside his mind he chanted 'conceal don't feel', as a dramatic tune started to form in his head. The urge to hum it was only growing stronger, but a man does not sing and dance. Only girly men sing Broadway show tunes.

Still as he walked, Connor could feel the power that was within his hands and feet surging through him. Conceal don't feel. The urge to use them was growing the more that he was alone to his thoughts. Turn it off. Don't let it show. His mind slowly drifted back to the beautiful person that was Elder Price...

The thoughts that were swirling in his head made him speed up his walking. No. No. No. No!

Opening the boxes that had been suppressed for so long was not supposed to happen. Turn it off! Why now, the moment that he had just failed his God once? Why must he be the one to fail him a second time, and not that idiot Cunningham?

Coming upon the front door of their small multi-room hut, he unlocked the front door and threw it open, slamming it shut behind him. Walking past their moderate kitchen and then speeding past the board room showcasing a large map of Africa, Connor went straight into his shared bedroom and locked himself in there from the inside. He just had to get away from it all. If he could not lock away his thoughts, then he would lock himself away until they were gone for good. This was what his parents had taught him so many years ago; that homosexuality was a sin.

Literally, it had been years since he had last had a gay thought, and now he was having them again; all because of that stupid Kevin Price and his lusciously dark hair and tanned skin. In his mind, McKinley vowed to make the pretty Elder pay for suddenly forcing such sinful thoughts back into his head. His eyes continued to well up. The tears were falling freely now.

Throwing himself onto the freshly pressed sheets of his bed, the blond boy could feel the sobs wracking through him as he laid his face into the cushion of his pillow. He could already hear himself asking God for his Heavenly forgiveness, whispering over and over again that he was sorry, and praying that his Father would bless him by finally taking the gay away… But God would not listen to his prayers. It hurt him to be seen as such a bad person in God's eyes, but the Elder truly thought of himself as a terrible person. Damn his seemingly incurable-curable curse.

True, he had told the other Elders that getting rid of such feelings was as easy as flicking off a light switch, but truly nothing was as easy as just saying 'click' to make everything okay. When it came to the complex beauty of the slightly arrogant Elder Price, there was no simple answer. Hell, that damned boy once managed to anger the leader of the Ugandan drug cartel AND managed to get a copy of the Book of Mormon stuffed up his ass, all on the same day. Kevin Price was impossible and optimistic, and also, nothing short of incredible…

Conner grit his teeth. Well, fuck him.

The Elder just needed to pretend harder. That was all. He needed to pray with more earnest than ever before for the strength to not ponder over such ideas, like the thought of Elder Price's soft coco-butter skin rubbing smooth and sensually across his arms, before having his fingers come up to his chest, moving slowly down his abdomen, further and further until…

Elder McKinley could only gasp at the sensation. Just thinking about it would bring a horrifyingly amazing tightness to his underpants. But God, the softness that was usually in Kevin's eyes and the hopeful smile that the man liked to wear all of the time… It was just too much for him to handle, and the Mormon knew that after staring into Elder Price's eyes for so long, that it would take much more than just constant prayer and shutting himself in his room to even have the hope of someday banishing such wonderings.

Perhaps the men were right. Perhaps he should just take the Mormon Review members advice and go home. Then he could admit to his parents that he was a failure; that he had always been a failure.

Whatever the case was, Connor was sure to be having an extra spooky Mormon Hell dream that night, and the man knew exactly what creature Satan would be tempting him with. The Devil just loved toying with that fickle, ball of emotions which made up his heart. Yes, an especially scary nightmare was awaiting him once he fell asleep, the Mormon was sure of it.

Wiping his face into the fabric of his pillowcase, McKinley turned onto his side to stare blankly at the cracks of his wall. A soft, body rattling sigh escaped him as he allowed the last of his tears to dry somberly against his cheeks. They left behind a faint trail of yucky melancholy.

"I hate you Price," he whispered, although truthfully his heart was not in it; the appendage merely broke into a million pieces as he lied on his bed.

It hurt to think about the pretty man; the way Elder McKinley's heart had sped up for the first time in years, witnessing the brave Mormon decide to 'screw the rules' and help his friend. Thinking back on his anger made Elder McKinley feel shameful of his actions. This was his problem, not theirs. The Mormon should have not taken his frustrations out on the two Elders. If anything, Connor was the failure. Unlike him, Arnold had been able to get new members for the Church. McKinley had been the District Leader for the Latter Day Saints Uganda mission and yet he had only managed to obtain a total of zero wide-eyed Mormons. At least Arnold had managed to gain about twenty, um… whatever the hell they were going on about. Something about Star Wars and diarrhea?

Connor stone-faced. Okay, this shit was too much. Literally.

The man was definitely not leaving his room today.

Sniffling once more in order to clear his sinuses, Conner blinked tiredly, reaching up to wipe dejectedly at his face. Bringing his hand to lay it next to him, he watched with a slight trepidation, as a small roach crawled out from one of the holes in the wall's wooden boards. He immediately blanched a little.

"Just great," he groaned.

Not only had he just been kicked out of the Church -and rediscovered his gayness- but his only home was going to eventually fall in, and why? Because of fucking bugs. The place was barely standing as it was.

Also, honestly, who was he kidding about going home? He could never go back to his parents as a failure.

After having his religion drilled into his head by them day after day, night after night, he could never risk the chance of possibly disappointing them. He knew that his parents would practically disown him if they were to ever find out that he had been extradited from the Church. Then they would cease sending him food and money which would be especially bad for him since his parents were the main supporter for their district's monthly food ration. They always gave the best care packages, and anything worth eating in Africa was supplied through the power of his parents' money. The only good thing about it was that his parents were filthy rich. As long as they were none the wiser to his indiscretions, he and his fellow Mormons would continue to get great food while the rest of the pitiful country was dying from AIDs and famine. Win, win situation.

God truly works in mysterious ways.

Closing his eyes, Connor could feel the stickiness of the left over tears on his face. Ew; so this is what pent up sadness feels like, he mused. Once he opened them, a disgusted and grossed out feeling settled in the pit of his stomach when he saw the possibly diseased roach begin to aimlessly make its way up to the ceiling in order to cross it.

With a thoughtful question bubbling up his throat through his disgust, Elder McKinley smirked sadly and inquired of the seemingly androgynous creature, "How does it feel to have no purpose, little roach?"

The roach paused at his words, his two antennas twitching as if in response. Elder McKinley almost laughed at that.

Just as he was about to make another smart remark, the sound of the front door of their hut being opened entered Connor's ears. He held in his breath, growing pale, staring horrified at the roach. Even though he had yet to look into a mirror, he could tell that his blue eyes were still red from tears. He also knew that the edges of his eyes would be puffy and pink for the rest of the evening.

From his place on the wall, the moderately sized roach continued to stand still, as if he were waiting along with him.

Elder McKinley mentally smacked himself out of annoyance. Lying on his side in the bed, he narrowed his gaze. No, he was not ready for people yet. Dear God, why did people have to come home so soon?

He opened his mouth to let out a wordless scream. Though the rooms all had walls that separated them from one another, the wood that made up their home was paper thin, and Connor could hear the sound of footsteps and voices as clear as if they were standing next to him. As they walked into the middle of the base' living room, he could hear their laughter. Since there was no one else in the house, it was incredibly easy to catch the gist of their conversation, especially once they were settled in the room next to him, unaware of the unintentional snooping that he was accidentally performing.

If this were any other time or place, the usually upbeat and friendly Mormon would have made a loud and obtrusive grunt or some kind of other indication in order to make the people aware of his presence, but now he just felt embarrassed. To alert them would only hurt his pride. The man was not stupid; he had actually graduated at the top of his senior class back in high school. Even he would not want his presence, and Connor knew that he was not wanted.

Upon hearing them speak, the man immediately recognized the two Elders voices, Cunningham and Price. It had taken a moment of concentration before he finally realized that they had brought along their little pet Nabulungi with them. Figures, he thought to himself. The woman was gradually becoming a constant presence at the Mormon hut, thanks to Arnold's insistence, and both she and McKinley were only acquaintances. The trio would want absolutely nothing to do with him right now, especially since they were in a deep discussion about… oh dear Lord. What was this idiotic mumbo-jumbo? It sounded like a bunch crap fanfiction that had been mixed with biblical hogwash.

As Arnold continued to speak, Connor could hear the doubt that was growing in Kevin's voice, but also feel the attention that the Mormon was clearly giving his friend's words, drinking it all in. The Elder was actually quite intelligent; almost as intelligent as he was, Connor mused. It was easy to tell that Price was trying to make sense of it all, even if Elder Cunningham's gospel seemed to be located on the borderline of a nut-job and the absolutely absurd. Then again, so did their own religion, sometimes.

In the background, constantly clicking away, Conner could only assume that he was hearing the sound of Nabulungi typing away at that type-writer of hers. He rolled of his eyes good-naturedly.

Still, as he lied there just listening to the bright and happy timber of Elder Price's voice as it affably sparred back and forth with Elder Cunningham, jokingly questioning his stories, the older boy felt a small longing in his chest. The glorious sound of Kevin's voice was making it hard for him to even have the hope of possibly thinking straight. The tone of it was such a fun mixture of fine astute and cunning, and the man's own, personal sweet brand of confident sultriness. Elder Price's voice could bring even the strongest, straightest-in-every-way man to his knees. It was ridiculous.

Elder McKinley would have shaken his head at himself had his bed not been a heap of creaking junk.

A lightheadedness filled his vision. Even when Connor was lying on his bed, he would still felt weak at the knees for this man. Everything about Kevin was just… mesmerizing. Elder McKinley could only listen, fully enraptured by the essence that was Elder Price.

With each syllable, McKinley could feel a small pool of warmth growing in the bottom of his belly. He could not help his mind wandering, as the feel of his words became simply magnificent. God, this man's voice was like pure sex; the way his words connected and the way his speech would deepen innocently.

When the Elder managed to say a particular word with juuuust the right amount of deep resonance, it was impossible for Conner to not let out a thin moan, as he subconsciously felt himself tightening his legs around his nether regions. The weight of his movements made a small creak in the worn out mattress that sounded in the room, and the Elder's eyes slammed open in realization. Shit!

"What was that?" he heard Elder Price ask.

There came a tense silence from the three Mormons.

Conner immediately held in his breath, sweating nervously. The stiffness that was growing in his pants quickly left him. Don't breathe, he thought to himself, hurriedly thinking of all of the Doctor Who that he had seen as a teenager. Don't breathe, breathe and you're dead. Just hold in your breath, don't move a muscle, and don't breathe.

From the other side of the wall, he heard Nabulungi stop typing. No one moved. After a long moment, a short breath was finally taken.

"Perhaps it is a ghost," she enthused up to them, giggling excitedly.

Immediately, Elder Price shot down the idea, while Arnold made a noise of protest. Best friends, indeed.

Conner could feel a small smile growing on his face as he heard her laughing playfully from her spot on the floor. One day he would have to thank her, McKinley promised himself. She was good at diverting their thoughts. With the attention taken off of him, he let out a breathless sigh. Thank you, Lord.

Closing his eyes, he almost laughed as he heard to Arnold take in a full breath of air to wail, "Noooo don't say that, you'll make me have a nightmare!"

Below him, the woman guffawed loudly, "Oh, who's the scaredy warthog now? Ah, I know. You are!"

She snorted up at him like a pig with glee.

McKinley would have snorted also if he was in their good graces. Laying on his bed like a log, Connor's smile grew as he heard Elder Price kindly say to his friend, "Oh, don't worry little buddy. I'll protect ya from the nightmares. Nothing can be as bad as a spooky Mormon Hell dream."

"Haha yeah, and you would know Elder," the smile that was in Arnold's words could be seen in McKinley's mind, and the older man suddenly felt terrible for being so rude to them. Perhaps… on a latter day he could apologize to them and make amends, but only on a latter day.

He could not face the trio today. The wounds within his heart were still too fresh to even begin to think about attempting to amend their ties. Besides, he had never been one for taking chances. The philosophy of carpe diem had never been one of his strong suits, to be honest.

Looking back to the wall where the roach had been, Conner froze when he noticed that it was nowhere to be found. Oh God, oh God. His breath hitched, and a mild panic attack began to make his heart run into over drive. Even though he had been calm just moments before, the twenty year old had a tiny, miniscule secret that he had refused to share with the other Mormons, no matter what: he was afraid of bugs.

With a growing dread, Connor continued to hear the happy conversation that was going on in the next room. Thankfully, it was safe to say that the other Mormons were none the wiser to his presence.

Feeling sick from the pounding of his heart, the blond boy chewed silently on his lip, blinking his eyes for a moment. Slowly moving his eyes up the wall, he blanched when he saw that the small creature was crawling its way over the edge of the ceiling and making its way across the ceiling. Oh, dear God. Conceal don't feel. Turn off the fear.

The grown man shook a little, as he saw the roach make its way towards him only to stop in the area right above him. Oh God, oh God. This was it. This was the moment that he died.

From in the other room, he could faintly hear their conversation in the back of his mind, but the roach was his main focus as it seemed to leer down at him with a somewhat challenging innocence. Don't you dare, Conner wanted to say to him. He was balling his fists out of fear.

"So, what was going on between you and Elder McKinley?" Nabulungi could be heard asking from the wall beside him. Conner could tell that the inquiry was aimed toward Kevin.

In the back of his mind's eyes, Connor could imagine the dark haired man shrugging his shoulders at her, as his voice took on a thoughtful tone, "Well I don't know, but I kind of feel sorry for whatever it was. He seemed upset."

"Was it something I did?" Arnold asked, worried.

The sound of cloth moving was heard, and Connor was sure that Kevin was placing a platonic hand over his friend's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "Nah, I'm sure that's not the case brother. Elder McKinley is generally nice. The thought of us being dismissed from our mission must have just been a big shock to him, is all."

Suddenly Nabulungi quipped, "Honestly, the way that you two were looking at one another, one would have thought that he was about to jump your bones!"

She laughed at her words, as Elder Price quickly began to sputter with indignance.

"W-What are y-you saying Nabu? Like a lion on his prey, maybe."

"More like a lion in heat!" the smirk in her words was followed by a playful wink.

Elder McKinley could feel his face growing hot from his place in the bed. No, she had gotten it all wrong! H-He did not like Kevin like that. T-That was just a trick of the African sun and heat. Yeah.

Just as he was feeling the need to rebuff her statement, his eyes finally noticed the roach above him again. Suddenly, something about the bug seemed off to him. Narrowing his brows at the offending creature, he went to take in his own breath of indignance, but nearly screamed as he witnessed the bug let go of the ceiling and launch itself on him. NOOOO! He felt the weight of the bug on impact. Making him let out a silent squeal, the bug crawled on him as Connor thrashed around wildly in his bed, the springs of his bunk deciding to squeak up a storm as his limbs went flying everywhere in an attempt to remove it from his person.

"There it is again!" Elder Price cried.

McKinley's heart beat rapidly from under the collar of his shirt. NOOOO AUGH! With one final sweep of the hand, he finally managed to throw off the disgusting creature, stopping to regain his breath. Eerily, he watched as the roach seemed to turn to him with the small wave of an antennae.

"You little-"

After that, the roach quickly slipped under the locked doorway and skittered into the room next-door.

"Was it you little guy?" he could hear Nabulungi wonder.

Connor mentally sweat dropped at the question.

Once again, there came another drawn-out moment of silence before the two men beside her let out a breath, laughing good-naturedly. It was normal to hear random noises while living in Africa, and the pair had become accustomed to it.

"Maybe, maybe," they each consented, although the smallest hint of doubt had settled within the pit of Elder Price's stomach.

Staring over at the wall next to him, his brows narrowed in concern, and he pursed his lips. He was not as gullible as his two companions.

In the back of his mind, he was idly wondering how Elder McKinley was feeling, where he was and whether he was okay or not. Still, he just shook his head, throwing those thoughts out of his mind.

Oh well, he thought, pulling on a smile. All of that could be saved for a latter day.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that's it so far. If you like the premise, then please leave a short review. You won't regret it! Also, feel free to give me any ideas that you would like to see in the story. Anything is welcome! Have a great day everyone! (:


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